


You Left Us

by RougueShadowWolf



Series: 15 Minutes [132]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Child Stiles, M/M, Past Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Sad Peter, Sick Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 09:14:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6323617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RougueShadowWolf/pseuds/RougueShadowWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never in a million years had Peter expected Chris to walk through those doors he feared he might one day walk through without his son with him and never come, never had Peter imagined that Chris would walk into the small miserable room in which his son and it was Peter’s son since Chris had never wanted the child Peter was fighting tooth and nail to keep alive for as long as it took until something could be done to save him. Peter had never thought the cause for his son suffering would come walking into the room where Peter seemed to dwell in day in and day out watching over his son constantly fearful, but there he was Christopher Argent the man with the tainted bloodline that was killing Peter’s baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Left Us

**Author's Note:**

> Shit, so we’ve got 15minutes back again with another daddy Peter (not the pervy sort so get you heads out of that cauldron of porn) and little Stiles, I swear people are so bored with these ones already but what Ultrasonic-Ukulele wants she gets, alright so she asked for a story where Stiles was born from Peter and Chris’ Love but then Chris left for whatever reason leaving Peter alone to raise their son. She also asked that the whole Victoria and Allison thing never happened, and for Stiles to be sick and human. That’s all my lovelies now I’m sure I’m just being stupidly emotional at the moment, but for some idiotic reason I haven’t figured out yet this one made me cry.

 

Peter Hale, brother of Alpha Talia Hale, felt completely lost where he stood. He felt useless and ruined as he stood beside the small bed that was most likely the deathbed of his little miracle of a boy. Peter’s child, his son had been born out of Peter’s own body, his very male body that he’d only imagined was good for killing and not for creating an innocent life, but his body had done the unimaginable the one thing that suddenly had him raised from unwanted beta in the eyes of other werewolves to a desirable one even if some of his would be suiters had snubbed at the fact that Peter’s child was human.

  
His heart aches as he stands there useless as his child, his perfect little miracle remained in a state of constant discomfort no matter how much Peter would try and drain the pain away from his tiny body, no matter the amount of drugs coursing through his fragile system and no matter how oblivious they made Stiles to the world around him Peter could feel the pain still there, the ache was rooted so deep within the very bones of his precious boy that not even Talia could reach it and take it away and she had tried oh how she had tried.

  
There was nothing Peter could do about any of the suffering his baby was going through, the only thing he could do for his son was just to be there at his side listening to Stiles whimpers and whines, and dry the tears he cried, and just try and be brave for his son; but being brave was difficult when even in his sleep Stiles found no real peace or freedom from the pain, proven by the tears he cried in his sleep.

  
They’d tried every form of treatment to destroy the killer cells growing and spreading inside of Stiles’ body, they’d tried everything imaginable in their battle against the aggressive killer that had made itself known in ways that at first hadn’t alarmed Peter or anyone else for that matter to the fact that Stiles was slowly losing his life, but all that these doctors and shamans as well as witches could do was only buy Peter’s son a little bit more time and nothing more. And because Peter’s soul was tainted and bound no demon would deal with him, none would exchange his soul for Stiles’ salvation; Peter had even tried to promise his obedience to an unholy master for his child’s survival but the answer had be no.

  
Peter was useless, his soul was useless.

  
Stiles’ last chance was stem cells the idea of a transplant had given Peter false hope only for it to be crushed when it came clear that a match couldn’t be found because his son had to of course with Peter’s luck or a terrible play of Karma he’d been no match and neither was any other member of his family, and all of them had been tested even the little ones but no match was found. Peter had gone into a blinding rage when he’d failed his son but also because Peter felt it in his bones the only match would be Chris the other half of Stiles’ construction; but if all of that wasn’t maddening enough the knowledge that it was Chris’ family, their bloodline, their faulty wirings that had doomed Peter’s baby to suffer so.

  
Chris had passed the Argent’s curse to Peter’s son.

  
Peter takes the washcloth and begins to gently clear the cold-sweat that had appeared on the pale brow of his son. Peter attends to his son every day giving him sponge baths and changing him because even if he could leave it all to the nurses it wouldn’t feel right to him, this is his son whom Peter had cut out of his own body under the light of the full-moon while in hiding and if he could cut his own belly open for his son and endure the pain of it then he could continue to take care of his son even while he was slowly withering away.

  
Stiles was growing weaker and weaker by the day and Peter didn’t need a doctor to tell him he was lucky to have a few more weeks with his son if that even, Peter knew it just by breathing in the scent that had once been so comforting and homely but was now nothing but dying cells and chemicals, his son was dying and it wasn’t just Peter who knew it even his brave little boy knew it; Stiles kept asking him not to cry once he was gone not to be sad because if his daddy was sad then he too would be sad, of course Peter promised his son he wouldn’t cry and he would only be sad for a little while but the truth was that every time after Stiles slipped into a restless sleep Peter would sob uncontrollably just at the thought of his sons funeral one which Stiles had started to ask about which was so very wrong for a child to do, Stiles wanted bright colored balloons at his funeral and he wanted to wear his batman costume.

  
Peter wasn’t entirely sure his son understood the meaning of a funeral, but he’d promise Stiles balloons and that there would be cake and ice-cream too and that Peter would make sure Stiles was dressed in his batman costume, he’d also promised that he would remember to place Stiles nightlight in the casket so Stiles didn’t have to be afraid of the dark.

  
Fighting back the tears that threatened to fall as he recalled his sons wishes Peter bent down to kiss the clammy forehead of his little boy. Peter was seriously considering taking his son home so Stiles could die in his own bed surrounded by the people who loved him and whom he loved, so that Stiles could pet their dog Claudia one last time and maybe sleep with the dog one last night. Peter knew he’d kept his son at the hospital only because he’d entertained the delusion that a donor would be found.

  
But it was time to start facing the facts.

  
There would be no donor, even the doctors and nurses had stopped believing in such a thing, and Stiles just wanted to go home to see Claudia once more and feel the her long wavy fur between his fingers and feel warm with her sleeping next to him; Peter knew it was selfish of him to keep Stiles where he didn’t want to be because of some faint hope that a cure would come.

  
But it was difficult to give-up on his son, to accept that he would leave to where Peter was not brave enough to follow.

  
There’s a faint knock at the door and Peter’s shoulder hunch as he imagines it to be just another nurse or doctor or worse Talia coming to intrude on his grief, and he was grieving over the loss of his sons energy and life even before his little body was truly cold and touched by death. Peter couldn’t handle the pity of the nurses or the so-called support of the doctors, he was done with Talia’s sisterly advice and sympathy, and of course he knew they all meant well but unless they had the cure in their pocket Peter could honestly do without any more unwanted looks directed in his or Stiles direction.

  
`Unless you’re able to save him, please just leave us alone.´ Peter says without so much as looking in the direction of the door that opens slowly, he’s fighting to keep his voice steady and unrevealing of the heavy sorrow settled in his heart and soul, ` He’s tired.´ Peter tells whoever it is that was slowly slipping into the dimply lit room that no matter if you painted it green, blue, bright red or yellow would be nothing but a hospital room.

  
In all honesty it wasn’t just Stiles who was exhausted Peter was too, he barely slept these days even if he had his own bed in the small room he just couldn’t find a peaceful slumber those nights he slipped and fell asleep instead of watching over his son and listening to his breathing and the beating of his heart, he was weak from hours spent draining as much of the pain as possible from the small body and from not eating as well as he knew he should; Peter knew he’d lost weight but how could he sit and eat when it would take away what little time he had with his son?

  
`I might be able to help with that.´ a male voice says from the door and it may have been years, five to be exact since Peter Hale had heard that voice, and frankly the last time he’d heard it well it hadn’t been under the best of circumstances, the last time that voice had reached his ears all Peter had been left with was a broken heart and anger that still remained within Peter’s heart.

  
`Chris.´ Peter growls turning his furious gaze at the hunter he’d once loved so deeply that his body reached a point where a gift that Chris should’ve cherished as much as Peter did could be created, however after years of no communication and the last choice Christopher Argent had given him still stinging inside his heart the love and devotion Peter had once had for the hunter was now long gone; it seemed as if the love had been the thing that Peter had aborted instead of the child Chris demanded that he abort, how could Peter ever love Chris after he’d called the baby that had been growing inside of Peter’s body an abomination?

  
Peter hates Chris and his blood. He hates the man and the family from which he’d crawled out of, he hates family tree to which Chris and sadly Peter’s own son belonged too because there amongst those branches of tightknit bloodlines were the seeds of his son’s destruction, the Argents were killing his son and Peter hated all of them for it.   
`Peter.´ Chris says voice soft, gentle even but Peter hates it and snaps at the man to leave, the scum shouldn’t be this close to his son only those who loved his baby boy should be allowed into this room of sorrow.

  
`Do you honestly hate me this much that you’d – that you’d rather see our son die than accept my help? ´ the hunter asks and Peter wants to say yes but it’s not true, so instead he snarls at the intruder and answers his question with what is the undeniable truth.

  
`Not ours, Christopher. Mine.´ there’s a possessive tone there and Peter knows it, he turns his gaze back down to his son who is so small and fragile, his heart softens against Peter’s will just because he’s eyes are on his sleeping child.

  
` You left.´ Peter tells the hunter, the man who had seen the life they’d created as something wrong, something disgusting, ` You told me to abort him, to kill him. You called him an abomination, ´ Peter’s hand moved to rest against the hollowed cheek of his most precious possession.

  
Chris moves over to the not yet five year old boy who was sickly pale and far too thin, a boy who no longer had the strength to eat on his own or remain awake for more than two hours a day. Feeling Chris’ gaze on his son and hearing him move closer to where the child lay dying Peter moves to cover Chris’ view of his son, he moves to block Chris’ path to the child the hunter never wanted a child he’d demanded Peter to abort.

  
`Peter, ´ Chris starts to sound mighty disappointed with him which irks Peter to no end as the hunter had no leg to stand on when it came to disappointments or judgements, Peter was the only one with any right to be disappointed after all it was Peter who’d suffered for Stiles who continued to cling to life with both hands because he simply wasn’t ready to go not until they finished reading the Harry Potter series and watched the movies; if anyone in that small room had the right to be disappointed with anything it was Peter and his son not Christopher bloody Argent.

  
`Don’t you dare waste my time.´ Peter snarls at Chris trying to keep his voice as low as possible so not to disturb Stiles’ rest, ` If you want to do one good and decent thing in your life Christopher Argent, if you ever loved me at all, then go and get tested, see if you are of some use to the child you helped create,´ but no matter how hard he tries Peter’s voice continues to rise, `and if you are in fact a match then do the right thing and help my son, save his life, and regardless if you’re a match leave us alone.´ Peter can’t hold back the anger or the tears he feels burning at the corner of his eyes as he feels his despair rise to the forefront, he’s not ready to lose his son now or fifty years from now.  
`You’re telling me to leave, to just walk away?´ Chris asks, and it takes everything in Peter not to just scream YES, instead he hisses at the man who’d once said he loved him, who’d promised they’d get married and have a life together, `Shouldn’t be hard, you’ve done it before.´ Peter swallows down the lump in his throat and stands a little taller refusing to show any weakness as he says, `I don’t need you here to upset my son who is sick – who is dying.´

  
Stiles whined in his sleep but before Peter could go back to tending to his son Chris grabbed him by the arm and asked, `So that’s all I’m supposed to be a donor? Nothing else? Are you seriously going to stop me from seeing my son? ´

  
`You said abort it,´ Peter hisses, `You said abort the abomination,´ and Peter pulls himself free from Chris’ hold and growls in his face, `Consider him aborted, once you’ve given what you owe me and my son go back to thinking I did it, because you do not deserve him as your son.´

  
`I’m not just a thing you can call up for spare parts Peter,´ Chris’ hisses back and Peter bites back immediately, `We don’t even know if you’re even good for spare parts you dick, you might not even be a match – you might just continue to disappoint me.´

  
Chris goes quiet from just his eyes Peter knows the hunter isn’t happy with him, he sees unjustified anger there, but then something softens in his gaze and he’s opening his mouth again to say something but Peter shuts him up before the hunter gets a word out, `Please just leave, he needs me and I can’t waste any more time on you. Get tested or not, just go.´

  
`Peter,´ Chris begins to say, and Peter is done with the hunter and just snaps at him to leave which caused his son to start crying himself awake and Peter is at Stiles’ side immediately, shushing and apologizing for being so loud.

  
`Daddy, ´ Stiles whimpers desperate and clearly afraid, Peter hushes his little miracle who reaches out to him and Peter picks his son up and holds him as close as possible.   
`I’m here baby.´ Peter promises his son, ` I’m here baby. Daddy’s got you.´ Stiles snuffles miserable while cling to Peter weakly but none the less desperately as if afraid Peter would try and put him back into that bed where he was trapped in, `I’m her baby boy, I have no interest in leaving you darling boy.´ Peter cradles the back of Stiles head mindful of the catheter sticking out from underneath the scalp of his little fighter, his son who accepted death but was still fighting for life perhaps because Peter kept asking him to hang in there just a little bit longer.

  
`Peter? ´ Chris says sounding rather concerned but Peter doesn’t want him there, he doesn’t want someone who’d wanted his son dead to see his son this weak and helpless, and so Peter mouths out the words, `Leave.´ but the hunter remained standing in the small room looking over the child who had once been so vibrant with life and energy, a child who started talking before he learned to crawl who was far too curious for his own good, a child who now started to cry because there was a stranger in the room a stranger that Stiles seemed to think by was a doctor as he stared crying, `No mo’ daddy. No mo’, please.´

  
`Please, Chris just leave.´ Peter says keeping the growl that wants to rise down so not to upset his already unhappy baby, Chris looked torn between staying leaving but eventually the hunter gave a nod but he didn’t walk out the door before making it clear to Peter he would be back.  
`I’ll be back, because we need to talk Peter.´

  
_No, no we don’t,_ Peter thinks but instead of saying it out loud he kissed the spot just above the catheter that always seemed to bother his son, he didn’t care about Chris or what Chris wanted, all he cared about was his baby boy. 


End file.
